Masked Love
by Keys Studio
Summary: Kyle is a Nord Mage that has just fallen into a deep, dark depression over the actions of Eric Cartman, a Nord Warrior. Kyle has summoned a member of the Dark Brotherhood, but when he sees that the assassin that has come is the Dragonborn, he decides he wants to see Cartman suffer. He isn't alone with Mysterion though. Karen McCormick is with him as well. K2, warnings inside.


**Okay, this is both my first South Park fanfiction and my first Skyrim fanfiction. I love them both to death so I thought, **_**Hey, why not combine them?**_** This was the product of that train of thought. XD**

**Warning(s): In this chapter, mentions of violence, a little blood, and swearing. :D**

**I do not own South Park. Matt and Trey do. And I do not own Skyrim.**

**[xXx]**

Nazir was sitting at the Sanctuary's dinner table along with Babette and the few initiates that were not busy with contracts, holding the rim of his Black-Briar Mead filled tankard up to his lips when someone arrived upstairs. All of the assassins stopped doing what they were doing, whether it was eating or drinking, to look up at the top of the stone stairs. There stood their Listener and leader, who they all called 'Mysterion' for lack of the knowledge of his real name. He wore a dark violet hood over hidden blond hair, a black mask over his light blue eyes, a dark violet cloak tied around his neck and over his shoulders, a purple dyed leather plate over his torso and back, olive green gloves covering any and all exposed skin on his pale arms, a black belt holding up light purple pants that were devoured by knee high boots, white undergarments over his crotch and around his waist line, and a lime green question mark bouncing from the top of his hood. Adorning his back was a Legendary Daedric bow and a quiver of bloodied Ebony arrows, having been used to kill the last target and/or kill a dragon or two. The Redguard stood and walked up to Mysterion, only to accompany him back down the staircase. "You have been gone quite a while, this time. Did the target in Riften give you a hard time?"

Mysterion, in his deep voice, replied, "Damn High Elf was a Master in Destruction spells. Had to ride Shadowmere up to Winterhold so I could get into the college to learn the Lesser Ward spell since _nobody_ had the spell tome in stock. After that, the asshole kept moving from one place to another like the Khajit caravans. Finally caught him in Morkarth. Slit his throat while he was sleeping and threw his body over the balcony, into the city stream. Nobody saw me since it was storming outside." He rolled his eyes. "Guards, I mean, seriously… Can't even do patrol in the rain yet they claim that they can take down a dragon. Not without me, anyways. Thing won't stay dead until I absorb its soul…" He sat down beside Babette at the table and began to fill his plate with grilled leeks, grilled chicken breast, and cooked beef, filling his bowl with cabbage potato soup, and filling his tankard with Alto Wine that he had taken from a bandit cave a few months back. "Next time, remind me to research the target. I don't want to travel all across Skyrim just to kill one mere person." He began to eat, not caring if he looked vulgar stuffing his mouth full of food. He rarely had the chance to stop and eat and drink, so being at the Dawnstar Sanctuary eating with allies was relaxing.

"Something tells me that you're leaving something out that might be very, _very_ important…" mused Babette, her small hand tucking some stray strands of brunette hair behind her ear. "Come on, Listener. You can tell us anything…" She had on that sickly sweet smile that she used only on her targets to make just about anyone talk. Of course, having been with Mysterion for over a year, she knew that the smile didn't have much effect on him. "Does it have to do with You-Know-Who?"

Mysterion paused in his eating, his eyes narrowing dangerously in the Vampire's direction. "Never, under _any_ circumstances, mention her again," he growled lowly. Only Babette and Nazir knew of who he loved the most dearest and it highly pissed off the blond Nord when either one of them mention her in any shape, form, or fashion. "But if you _really_ need to know, she almost saw me while she was with that old hag Maven Black-Briar. I wouldn't have minded talking to her again after so many years, but seeing her with that bitch told me not to even _bother_. According to the guard stationed in Riften, she is a part of the Thieves Guild now, so it's not strange that I saw her with Maven." He sighed in agitation. "I just wish that she didn't have to resort to that… being a thief, I mean…"

"It's alright, Mysterion," Nazir said gently. "You don't have to say anything more on the subject. You know where the Guild is, right? Just go talk to her like old times." He smiled warmly. "After all, how long ago did you last talk to her? Five years? Six years, maybe?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You can still go talk to her when you get the chance."

"I doubt that I will be able to at this rate…" rasped Mysterion. He was full by this point. A sigh escaped his lips. Then he heard it. The gentle whisper of the Night Mother's summon, enveloping him in a gentle embrace that began to tug and pull him upstairs. He shook it off and stood. "I have to go. The Night Mother is calling me…"

"Another contract?" Babette questioned with a frown. Receiving a nod, the 'young' Vampire sighed deeply. "And just as you got back too… Honestly, when will the people of Skyrim learn that we are people too and we need to rest ourselves…? They just want us to kill someone else so they don't have to get their hands dirty. But then again," her eyes narrowed, "some of us were born with our hands already dirty." Then she sighed again. "Sorry, Listener."

The blond shrugged it off. "It doesn't matter anymore. I already know that my hands are tainted." He stretched. "Anyways, this assassin has got a new contract to fulfill." He quickly cleaned up his spot at the table, pushed in his wooden chair, and walked back up the staircase. Taking a sharp left, he approached the Night Mother's coffin. He opened the mentioned coffin, getting ready to receive a new contract.

Her dead, decayed body stood in front of him, her head tilted to the left, arms in a strange fashion against her wrapped torso, and mouth agape in a silent scream. Her body began to glow a golden color, her eyes crimson as her rasping voice filled Mysterion's head, "Yet another child has prayed to their Mother… This child… He is performing the Black Sacrament so desperately that even my dead ears can hear his cries… Speak to Kyle Broflovski at Dragonsreach in Whiterun… Take his gold and eliminate the target… So begins the contract, bound in blood…"

Mysterion watched as the glowing corpse dimmed back to normal. He sighed – by Sithis, he was sighing a lot lately – and ran back downstairs, opening the large circular door that led to the hidden well. He closed the door behind him and climbed the ladder at the end of the tunnel, pushing the well's boards up so that he may exit. He rolled out onto the soft, cold snow and closed the boards back into place. Standing, he shook the cold snow off of his person.

"Whiterun, huh?" he murmured to himself, "I wonder if Lydia would be willing to come with me? Or even Aela…" He shook his head. "Aela is better at Sneaking that Lydia… I'll ask her when I get there." He grinned happily. "Thank Sithis that I'm friends with Harbringer Craig." He then whistled loudly, calling forth the immortal horse Shadowmere from the shadows. Once the black steed appeared, the purple clad assassin mounted up, hanging on as they began to head south, to Whiterun. "This is going to be a long ride…"

[xXx]

Mysterion arrived in Whiterun after two days of riding. His arse was sore from riding for so long. He grumbled as he waved at the iron clad guards at the front gate. He entered the hold and blinked. It was the twenty-sixth of Second Seed and it seemed that there was a rather large celebration going on. His theory was proven to be correct when Jarl Balgruuf the Greater walked up to him, rather intoxicated.

The blond could tell that the Jarl of Whiterun was drunk just by the smell of ale and mead mixed in his breath as he slurred out, "Well, there's the Thane of Whiterun! Mysterion! It's been forever, good friend!" He threw his arm over him, grinning. "Come on, Mysterion, old lad! Come celebrate my nephew's birthday!"

"Your nephew?" questioned Mysterion. He was aware that the older had many children, but a nephew? This was new.

"Yes!" cried Balgruuf. "My nephew, Kyle Broflovski!" He swooned. "Not to mention, I saw a fine young lass serving Black-Briar mead that looks to be about your age, only a few years younger, lad! You should go speak with her! Maybe you'll become _better acquainted _over the night and being marrying in the Temple of Mara in the morning!"

The blond rolled his eyes. Hearing the contact's name was enough for him, but hearing about a young woman serving mead? He needed to investigate. Quickly. "Maybe I will, my Jarl, but you must unhand me if you really want me to meet her," he spoke silkily.

"Oh, yes!" slurred the Jarl, taking back his arm. "Now go, my Thane! Go!"

Mysterion nodded and ran, his cloak fluttering behind him as he searched for the young woman that the Jarl spoke of. Then he found her and sighed happily, walking up to her. She had soft brown eyes just like her mother and dark brown, almond really, hair that fell gently to her shoulders, her face young and beautiful as though she had never grown up past fourteen, her torso covered with dark green robes, and a tad bit of dirt over her left eye. She had just finished serving one of the guards when she saw Mysterion. Her eyes glittered with happiness and she just about jumped over the table, hugging the blond happily. "My guardian angel!" she cheered joyfully.

Mysterion chuckled and held her close. How long had it been since he last held her? He petted her hair. "Karen, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you…" He closed his eyes in shame. "I didn't want to vanish on you like I did… I just… I was so caught up in this damnable war that I didn't have time anymore…"

"Oh shush," giggled the now named Karen, looking him in the eyes that were now wide open. "You were there for me. Sure, you weren't there _physically_, but you were there in my heart, so it doesn't matter." She smiled. "I'm glad I know you at all. You saved me more times than I can count. You saved me as a little girl when I was stuck at Honorhold Orphanage, you saved me from bandits… You gave me hope all of those times…" She kissed his cheek. "I wish I could come with you on whatever adventures you go on…"

"You can still come with me," smiled Mysterion. "I'll teach you Archery… I'll teach you to use Daggers and Long-Swords… War-Hammers, and Smithing. Anything you want me to teach you so long as it isn't magic."

"Oh, I wish I could," sighed Karen, "but Maven won't allow me to leave…"

Mysterion grinned. "Oh, I have an idea as to how I can get her to let you come with me. She's here, right?"

"Yeah, but what are you going to do?"

"Oh, you'll see, Karen."

Karen raised a brow at Mysterion, but relented and took him to where the old woman was chatting with some of the shop owners of Whiterun. When she saw Karen, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "What are you doing away from your post, Karen McCormick?" she asked calmly, but venom was clear in her voice. "I thought I was clear to you when we spoke in Riften; You were not to leave your post. Does Mercer need to know about this, or will you behave like the good little subordinate that you are?"

The purple clad assassin answered for the now hiding brunette, "I want to take Karen with me. She's the one person I trust and want to protect with my life and seeing as to how she lives in Riften, I can't help but worry about her constantly."

"Oh?" sneered Maven, crossing her arms. "The legendary Dragonborn wants a petty little thief like Karen McCormick? And what price are you willing to pay me to have her?"

Mysterion felt a sadistic smirk creep over his features as he began to fish through his bag. He pulled out three plump coin purses, four flawless garnets, two flawless rubies, and seven flawless amethysts. "Twenty-two thousand three hundred forty-six gold and the gems you see here in my hand."

Maven couldn't help the surprised look that flash across her face then she huffed. A smile etched across her lips. "Alright. Throw in four hundred more gold and I'll give her some armor."

"No need," chuckled Mysterion. "I can forge her some armor myself. I'll give five thousand if you happen to have some Daedric hearts and Ebony Ingots."

Maven sighed. "Sadly, no." Then she nodded to Karen. "She may go with you. I will let Mercer Fray and the others know. Or will she still be a member of the Thieves Guild?"

Mysterion smiled and gave Maven the gold and gems, telling her, "She will remain a member. Just tell them that it will her a bit longer to do whatever they want her to do." Taking Karen's hand in his gloved one, he led her away. Karen looked rather happy about being with her guardian angel now that she didn't have to work with Maven anymore. "What are we going to do first, guardian angel?" she asked innocently.

"Well, I have to go talk with someone, so unless you want to learn more about me that you want to, I suggest you stay near Breezehome, alright?" Mysterion said in his real voice. He watched in confusion as Karen's eyes widened. He didn't realize he had spoken with his normal voice until she opened her mouth.

"Ke-?"

Mysterion clasped a hand over her mouth and shushed her. In his deep voice, he said, "Don't say my real name out loud, Karen. Alright?" When he received a nod, he pulled his hand away. "I'll be right back. Just wait for me, okay?"

Again nodding, Karen stayed by his side. It seemed that she wanted to know all about him now. He sighed and pulled out a hood from his bag, handing it to her. "Cover your face. We don't want anyone to recognize you after this because of what we'll be doing." He kissed both of her eyelids and then her forehead. "Hail the Listener," he whispered, "Hail the Night Mother. Hail Sithis."

[xXx]

Kyle Broflovski was not having fun at all, despite it being his birthday and the rather large celebration going on around him. In fact, he believed that if he got up and left back to Dragonsreach, nobody would notice because they were having too much fun or they were out cold due to being overly intoxicated. He stood and began to walk up the stairs to reach the bridge to the doors of Dragonsreach. He was right. Nobody seemed to notice. Even if it _was_ his celebration…

He sighed heavily and walked up to the living corridors, making a beeline to his bedroom. He entered his room and locked his door, instantly falling to his knees and just staying there. He reached for the iron dagger that had been laying on the floor and began to stab the effigy in front of him, chanting, "Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear…" He kept repeating the chant, tears streaking down his face as he did so. His voice began to crack. "Sweet Mother… sweet Mother… send…" He dropped the dagger and lifted his hands to his face, covering his emerald eyes and allowing his bottled up scream to escape the recesses of his throat.

His screams finally died down, his body falling limply to the side. He cried and cried, occasionally whimpering out the faintest of names, inaudible to human ears. Tears stained the wooden floors until finally he couldn't cry anymore. He felt weak, abused… He knew that he was hurting, but did anyone else? And another thing, did the Black Sacrament work? He had been performing the ritual for four days now and nothing… Not even a letter from a courier.

"Are you Kyle Broflovski?"

Kyle just tilted his head slightly, looking over at the source of noise. He raised a brow at the silhouette that was in his window, kneeling and staring at him with a questioning look. He sat up slightly and stared with dim, lifeless eyes. "Who are you?" he asked in a hoarse voice. He swore, if this was some kind of joke, he was going to kill whoever set it up.

"My name is _Mysterion_," the silhouette said, hopping down from the window. His feet landed on the wooden floorboards, but he made absolutely no sound. He was now visible to the ginger's eyes. He was hooded and masked to keep his identity a secret, and he was wearing mainly purple clothing with the exception of his belt, gloves, and boots. And was that a bouncing green question mark over his head? "You have been flooding the Night Mother's ears with your cries and prayers, soul of tormented." He kneeled to be eye to eye with Kyle. His olive green clad hand lifted his chin and now they were mere inches away from each other. "The Night Mother and I both have heard your desperate cries and have tasted your fallen tears. While the Night Mother only wants me to take your gold and kill the target, I want to know what caused you such pain, such misery…"

"Why do you care?" Kyle asked weakly. "It's not like you're my friend… And out of my four true friends, only one stayed by my side. Stan stayed with me through it all… Kenny died due to a Stormcloak ambush while his family was moving to Riften… And Cartman… that asshole… He took my little brother. He took him and now he is holding him hostage in Windhelm…"

Mysterion kissed away Kyle's tears. "I am your friend now, Kyle. And by the way your eyes are showing me, that fire wants to see Cartman burn. You want to damn him to Oblivion." He stood, pulling Kyle against him. "Normally, I never ask my contacts if they want to see the target die, but with you… You are the only exception."

Kyle fisted the thick leather that adorned Mysterion's back and seethed. He _did_ want to see Cartman burn. He wanted to see him wither and writhe in the hands of the Daedrics while they tore at his flesh. He looked up at Mysterion and nodded. "I want to go with you."

"Alright," the blond said. "Now, know this, you are not the only one with me. I want you to watch our companion's back as well as your own. I can handle the rest. Understood?"

The ginger Nord nodded. "Yes…" He sighed. "I don't have any gold right now, but on the way, if we make any gold at all, I promise to pay you back for your services." He gave Mysterion a hard look. "I swear my soul to the Void if I cannot pay you the gold before we get to Windhelm." He pulled away from the assassin and walked over to his wardrobe. He pulled out an alchemist's satchel and enchanted robes. He quickly changed into the light clothing and threw on a hood to hide both his mass afro of red hair and his face. "I'll meet you down at the gates. I have to do something first."

The blond nodded and suddenly, he vanished into the shadows.

Kyle took a deep breath and pulled out an iron dagger from his satchel. He sliced open the palm of his hand and hissed under his breath. He then dipped his fingers into his crimson blood and wrote on the walls a small message. Once he was finished, he left his room through the window. He landed with a splash in the water below, his legs quickly kicking to push him up, his arms helping. His head broke the surface and he hurried to get out. With a quick flash of a Fire spell to dry him off, he ran, hiding in the darkness as he made his way to the gates of Whiterun. He saw Mysterion and a hooded woman beside him and sped up.

"Let's go," Mysterion said, taking both of their hands. He kicked open the gates and ran, the three of them vanishing with ease into the starry night.

_I won't be back. Don't look for me. Just like you never did for Ike._

**[xXx]**

**Wow… this is like… **_**double**_** the amount that I actually wrote down… Over that, actually. I think I got carried away…**

**Let me know if you guys like this. :D I know I like the typed one better than the written. :P**

**~Madness**


End file.
